Page 19 of The Highlander's Twisted Deal
For a long moment, Callum was perfectly still and quiet, although his eyes did not move from hers.
Have I gone too far?
In a blink, Callum was on his feet, lithe and graceful as a cat, and he was so close to her that she could have tapped his chest with her nose if she’d so wished.
The heady scent of woodsmoke and the outdoors was stronger now, coming off his clothes in waves. She shivered, resisting the urge to breathe deeply or to look away or back away.
She could do neither, of course.
She’d met men like Callum before. Treated them, even. They were all the same—tiresomely masculine, determined not to accept advice or criticism from anyone they deemed inferior. Certainly not a woman.
To regain his sense of equilibrium, Callum would need to make a crude joke to dismiss her advice or find some way to make her suggestions sound like his own.
His fingertip brushed the underside of her chin, a feather-light touch, and she flinched.
“Have ye considered,” he murmured softly, “that if I started kissing ye, I wouldn’t be able to stop?”
Well, that is a new one at the very least.
Wrong-footed, Ava blinked rapidly.
“I… what?” she managed. She just had time to utter those words and draw in a shocked breath before Callum’s lips came crashing down on hers.
Ava had been kissed before, once or twice, back when she was a reckless teenager. As far as she knew, it was a bothersome thing, often unavoidable and boring at best.
Kissing Callum was many things, but notboring.
His lips were soft, firm but not uncomfortable. Her lips weren’t pushed painfully back against her teeth as had happened before, nor was her head tilted at an odd angle. His fingers on her jaw were just as feather-light as before, neither holding her in place nor angling her head.
His body pressed against hers, firm and warm, and she had reached up to grasp his bicep unconsciously. The odd, coiling heat bubbled up in her chest, hungry and wanting something that was not quite clear. She dug her fingers into his arm and heard him give a low, rumbling growl deep in his throat.
His hand slipped around her waist, large and warm, his fingers spread wide, pulling her tighter against him. Ava was kissing him back before she even knew it, her other hand trailing up his arm to curl around his shoulder, moving to his neck and sliding through the soft curls there. The tip of his tongue traced the seam of her lips, and a shudder rolled through her. She wanted nothing more than to open up, to go limp in his arms, and to let the night go where it may lead them.
She wanted, more than anything else, to find out where it would end.
Nay. Do ye think it will end well?
Eyes flicking open, Ava pushed against Callum’s chest, hard, pulling herself away. He released her immediately and stepped back.
His face was red, and she knew it wasn’t because the room was so warm. Eyes wide, breath coming hard, Callum looked just as disheveled and shocked as Ava.
“I’m sorry, I—” he began, but she quickly interrupted him.
“I think we need a rule,” Ava said, pleased that her voice only sounded alittleunsteady. “Nay kissing or touching when we’re alone. The purpose of it is to convince others we’re in love—no need for it if there’s nay audience.”
He blinked, swallowing thickly. “Aye, that makes sense. A great deal of sense. Ye are a clever woman, Ava.”
She smiled weakly. “So I hear. We’d better get back in there, eh?”
He nodded, his tongue flickering out to lick his dry lips. Ava pointedly did not let herself follow the movement. “We’ll go back together and hold hands.”
“That seems wise,” Ava said, even though it seemed like nothing of the sort.
She’d half expected to find the feasting room empty, but the three were still there. The uncle, Marcus, rose to his feet when Ava and Callum reappeared. His gaze dropped at once to their hands, to their interlaced fingers.
“We didnae mean to offend ye, lad,” he said quietly. “Or yer choice of bride. Miss Ava, please, forgive us.”
She smiled politely. “There’s nothing to forgive. Please, call me Ava.”
